One Shot
by FusRoBeth
Summary: Siah has travelled to Whiterun from Windhelm to escape her father. She only has one wish, to join the Companions and make a name for herself. Farkas soon starts to get her attention and everyday that passes, her father seeks revenge. Will she be able to forget her dreadful past?
1. Chapter 1

A harsh breeze hit me as I walked up the steps to Jorrvaskr. My nerves were kicking in, which lead to my fingers starting to shake; my legs trembled. I still hadn't recovered from my journey to Whiterun. I had met quite a few people in the inn, but the real reason I was here was to sign up to be a Companion, the most honourable position in all of Skyrim.

I pushed the door open and a draft of warm air rushed out, I smelt mead, freshly cooked meat and bread. My eyes swivelled around the room, a huge fire pit in the floor sat right in the centre of the hall. The surrounding tables were filled with food of every kind; a few people were sat around the table gulping down a tankard of mead and munching on some food. I stood still for a moment, trying to gather myself. A strong looking man approached me, he didn't say anything; he just looked down and shuffled his huge feet.

"Hello" I tried to be as friendly as I could.

"Hi" He had a deep voice, he looked up; he was also handsome.

"Who's in charge around here?" I said, even though I was still shaking.

"We don't really have a, uh… leader…"He paused. "but Kodlak is the guy in charge" He turned and pointed to the stairs.

"Thank you, I'm Siah by the way" I gave a slight smile.

"I'm Farkas" He grinned at me, which was cute.

I walked through the hall and down the stairs. I opened the door to a vast corridor with rooms along it. There were some tables and chairs along the way to. I stuck my head in each of the rooms to look for this Kodlak guy. The first set of room looked like where all the 'lower' down companions slept, and the second was probably were the higher companions slept considering they all had their own rooms. At the very end of the corridor there was a set of opened double door. A man who looked a bit like Farkas sat in one chair, another older man sat in the other.

"But I still hear the call of blood…" The younger man said.

"We all do but- ah, it appears we have a visitor" They both looked over to me. I walked over to them slowly, the older man smiled, but the younger one did not.

"A stranger comes to our hall" I assumed that this was Kodlak I was talking to.

"I would like to join the Companions, sir" I could tell my voice sounded small.

"Hahaha, I am no sir. Here, let me have a look at you…Yes, a certain strength of spirit" Kodlak smiled.

Vilkas scowled at me, and gave a small snigger when Kodlak said this.

"This is Vilkas, follow him to the courtyard and he will test your arm" Again, he gave another patronising snigger.

"Follow me, whelp" I knew then, that this guy did not like me. I proceeded to follow him to the hall and then outside to the courtyard. Farkas was sitting by a table, drinking ale. He nodded at me, which lifted my spirits a bit.

I took my blades out, I wasn't the best with blades, I was much better with a bow, but I knew he'd probably say something about it. Vilkas stood in the training ring, greatsword in hand.

"Show me what you've got, new blood" He swung for me, I ducked quickly, but before I could react again, the side of his weapon swung into my shoulder. Pain seared through me like a fire. I gathered myself and stood up, this time I was ready. I let my hands do the work, swinging around aimlessly, until eventually he stopped.

"Not bad…you might make it. You're still a whelp to me though. Go give this sword a sharpen, Eorlund is just up there." He walked off, limping. Farkas hurried over to me, he nodded his head in approval.

"You just gave my brother a good beating, eh?" He nudged me a little too hard and toppled me over. He cursed and gave me a hand up. We both laughed when he apologised.

"Thanks, but I'm better with a bow" I patted my Deadric bow which was safely strapped to my back.

"I'd um, like to see you use it sometime, Siah" He strolled off and went inside.

The Skyforge, is a true legend. All my life I've heard stories of its magical properties. I took Vilkas' sword to Eorlund. The heat from the forge made sweat form on my forehead.

"Remember newcomer, no one rules anybody in the companions. Don't let anyone boss you around"

"I'll need to be going." I turned to go back.

"I have a favour to ask" He looked hopeful. "Take this Shield to Aela, my wife is in mourning and I wish to get back to her soon." He handed me the shield and I looked at it,

"Didn't you just tell me not to let anyone boss me around?" I grinned and walked back to the hall.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the delay, been away at my aunties. I hope you'll forgive me! I would really like some advice on how to improve, because I'm still a noob to all this kind of stuff.**

**Auf Wiedersehen!**

* * *

Aela was fairly tall, slim and beautiful. Although she always called Farkas names, he still followed her around like a dog half the time. I can see why, she was pretty and her hair wasn't constantly a mess like mine. She pretty much made Farkas do everything for her, which was annoying. I thought that this was probably because he wanted to prove himself, something like that.

It was pretty late, I decided to go home. I'd purchased Breezehome from the Jarl a few days prior. It was a pretty big house, empty though. I had hardly any possessions, a few books and gems, nothing spectacular. I hoped to fill up the shelves and chests by being in the companions, collecting souvenirs and new weapons. Basically, the only remotely interesting thing was my dog. Ash, he followed me home on my journey to Whiterun. I took a liking to him quite quickly. The fire was still lit; I put a fresh lump of venison on the spit above it. I was a good cook, before my mother died fighting for the Stormcloaks she was a cook for Jarl Ulfric. She cooked for a long time, but her heart told her to join the Stormcloaks in battle. She basically taught me everything I knew in the kitchen.

I diced carrots and leeks and threw them into a cooking pot and then added a lot of salt, salt makes everything better. I had to wait a while before it was cooked, so I decided to tidy up around the house. I made my bed and washed the table down. Then ran out of things to do all together, so I sat down and dreamed of what tomorrow would bring.

* * *

I woke early, like I was supposed to. As I put my armour on, I nibbled on a slice of bread. It wasn't exactly delicious but it'd do. Ash lifted my spirits up almost immediately, jumping up for a slice of last night's venison was his way of saying hello I guess.  
Jorrvaskr was in the wind district, and I could see why. It was so windy it was almost toppling me over. It was a relief to be in the overturned boat, the warmth of the fire greeted me. I grabbed some cheese and more bread from the table when I realised I was still starving. Farkas approached me, and smiled as he sat down.

"I've been told to give you something to do" He grabbed an apple from the table.

"And that is?"

"We have some trouble in Whiterun Hold, wizards, the college is bad enough…"He paused.

"Will you uh, be able to handle it?" He looked at me carefully. Farkas gave me a map, with the place I was supposed to go marked on it.

"Of course" I smiled at him, and left the table.

The crypt was a long way from Whiterun, it'd be a long journey, it wasn't exactly miles but it was a good walk. My mind trailed off to my journey from Windhelm, considering I had barely any rest until I arrived in Whiterun; it wasn't the best 3 days of my life. Windhelm was my home, I was brought up there. Although by the time I was in my teens, I began to realise the harsh reality of the rebellion. Dumner women lay in dark corners around the city, freezing and close to starvation. If I didn't see Dumner dying on the streets, I saw them being beaten or shouted at. My father was one of the sick bastards who beat the poor people and then proceeded to make their miserable lives seem like hell. My father was always a heavy drinker, grabbing ale or mead whenever it was available. I turned 16 and got myself a job; it was only shovelling hay at the stables however it was better than watching people suffer back in the city. With what little gold I earned I gave one gold piece to each of the poor people on the streets.

* * *

The harsh wind hit my skin like a sharp blade cutting through my flesh. As I walked up the steps to the Nordic crypt, I stepped back to evaluate the place. It looked huge from the outside, back in The Bannered Mare I heard an adventurer telling tales of him and a partner delving into dangerous ruins and caves. He gave me some advice, tread carefully and always be on guard. It was pretty self-explanatory when you think about it. I spotted a few blue ghostly figures around the entrance. They were easy to take down; I guessed I was dealing with a conjurer? Or maybe a group of them?

The passage ways were fairly quiet until I reached the main chamber. At first glance I only spotted two enemies; they were both strolling along the wooden bridge. I snuck further into the room, I counted another three. My bow was already drawn; I readied an arrow and decided on my target. The closest would be easiest, although it'd attract attention my way. I decided on the target who was sitting at a table, he was the furthest away and also looked to be in charge. He was an easy target, died instantly. An arrow straight through his chest.

"Who's there?" A young fire mage ran across the bridge, small chunks of rubble hit the floor as she swayed the bridge. I hid behind a wooden beam, barely drawing a breath. My heart was thumping in my chest, and my fingers were shaking with pure nerves.

"Ha! Found you!" A blast of fire hit my arm and engulfed it in a rage of orange flames. Out of habit, I readied an arrow and fired in the direction the flames came from. I heard the impact of the arrow a spilt second later, then the terror filled cry of the bastard who set me on fire. I patted my arm frantically, my armour was absorbing most of the damage; it wouldn't last long. I could feel the stinging of the flames reaching my delicate skin. I had to get the damn gauntlet off, my hand reached from my blade and cut the strings holding it to my arm. My small moment of relief was soon interrupted by a threatening scream and a sharp pain soaring through my shoulder blade, I felt something warm dripping down my body. My eyes searched for something to kill or at least harm the three people attacking me. Two were mages; I guessed the other was only a guard of some sort. I tried to dodge his sword as best I could but he still nagged at my armour.

That's when I saw it, a lantern hanging above them all. My senses kicked in and my nose picked up the scent of oil. Oil is flammable. I acted quickly, running a few meters before spinning around again. I shot in the general direction of the lantern and I missed by inches. Another arrow was ready, I aimed this time, and they were all in the oil when the lantern smashed into tiny pieces. Igniting them all in a cloak of flames. I knew their screams would haunt me, but it was done.

I was badly hurt; my arm was covered in bright red blisters and sore. My shoulder blade was so bad, it hurt to look. Two slices of flesh hung apart, blood gushed out of the wound; it was cut clean in half. I had to get out of the dungeon, and back to Whiterun. My feet stumbled over urns and baskets on my way out, I tripped multiple times but somehow managed to drag myself up. The cold air soothed my burns, but did nothing for my open wound.

* * *

I somehow stumbled back to Whiterun, I had lost a lot of blood, I must say I didn't enjoy the feeling of being soaked in my own blood. I could feel everyone staring and I could hear the whispers, by the time I had gotten to the steps of Jorrvaskr; I collapsed, barely being able to keep my eyes open. I could tell my breathing was short, if I closed my eyes I would surely die.

"Siah! Oh fuck, oh fuck." A huge hand reached out for mine, and then my vision started to fade. Shouting was all around me, the last thing I felt was strong comforting arms carrying me into a warm and friendly looking mead hall.


End file.
